Twelve

LUST

The sound cut through the garden like a blade–wine glasses, mason jars, every piece of glassware shattering in perfect unison. I didn't even realize I'd done it until Diana's sharp intake of breath drew my attention to the destruction spreading outward from where I stood.

Guests scattered, some screaming, others staring in shock at the glittering shards decorating the pathways.

I didn’t give a shit, because I just found out that fucking mongrel had killed her, then buried her.

"Be back in a tick," Envy said beside me, his usual lazy drawl sharpened to a lethal edge. "There's a rabid dog that needs putting down."

He melted into shadows before I could object, leaving me swaying on my feet. What the hell was wrong with me? I was Lust—I embodied desire, not...whatever this protective fury was.

"Lust." Diana's voice cut through the haze. "Control yourself."

"I...can't,” I whispered. The admission scraped my throat raw. I couldn't control a damn thing right now.

Juniper sat curled on herself like a broken bird, and that image sent another spike of rage through me that made the remaining glass in the fountain crack ominously.

"Marcus!" Diana called sharply to one of her security guards. "The situation is contained. Please ensure our guests that the threat has been removed and they're safe to continue. Get the catering staff to sweep up the glass and refresh the drinks."

Marcus's calm, professional voice addressing the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, the individual who caused the disturbance has been escorted off the premises. You are all perfectly safe. We'll have the area cleaned up momentarily and fresh refreshments served. Please, continue enjoying the evening...."

Diana's magick wrapped around us, and suddenly we were in her living room. The spatial displacement should have made me nauseous, but all I could focus on was Juniper collapsing onto the settee like her strings had been cut.

I found myself sitting beside her without thinking. Close enough to catch the faint scent of her shampoo—something clean and floral.

"That was him, wasn't it?" Diana asked.

"My fiancé–" Juniper started, and the word hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Ex-fiancé," I corrected, harsher than I meant. "Once someone tries to kill you, they're automatically an ex."

She looked at me with wide, sad eyes.

"My ex-fiancé," she said softly, and I had to fight not to close my eyes in relief. "We were finally going to consummate the contract my family arranged when I was a child."

Contract marriage. Of course. I knew the practice—had seen it countless times over the centuries with the witch covens. Magick was waning, so witches tried to set their daughters up like prize cattle, only going to powerful supernaturals toensure any witch born would be magickal. No human males for their precious witches. And who was going to complain? The buyer got a power boost from deflowering a virgin witch, and the coven received funds, political connections and magickal enhancement.

But hearing Juniper describe it so matter-of-factly, like she'd simply accepted being treated as property her entire life...My hands clenched into fists.

"I'm thirty-five," she continued quietly. "You can imagine how long my mother has been pushing for me to complete this."

Thirty-five years of being groomed for this moment. Conditioned to believe her worth was tied to her virginity and whatever magickal benefit some bastard could extract from taking it.

"But I hoped it could be more than just a transaction," she whispered, and the pain in her voice cracked something inside my chest.

She'd hoped for love. Despite everything—the arrangement, the pressure, knowing she was essentially being sold—she'd still believed it could be beautiful.

"He called me Evangeline instead."

I shot to my feet. Evangeline. The Northern Range Alpha's sister. Even I knew the rumors about her affairs and one of those was with an Alpha of a wolf pack. Of course, it had to be her. And this bastard had been thinking about his mistress while preparing to claim Juniper.

"When I confronted him about it, he just...snapped." Her voice cracked. "His hands went around my throat. I fought, but he was so much stronger. Everything went black."

The image hit me of Juniper's throat in that monster's hands, a horrific picture of her struggling against his strength, the light fading from her eyes. I started pacing. The alternative was tearing Diana's living room apart.

That would be rude.